Sherlock of the Opera
by Mary Russell-Holmes
Summary: It's 1870. Bored and annoyed with people and life, Sherlock Holmes moves beneath the Royal Opera House. He finds a student in the form of a young singer, Molly Hooper. As the years go on, Sherlock's obsession grows, but what will happen when Molly's childhood crush makes appears? And what about all these murders? Was it really Sherlock? Or is he being framed?
1. Think Of Me

Molly was getting ready to go to bed when she first heard the voice.

"You have an excellent voice, Molly Hooper."

She whirled around, but there was no one there. "Who said that?"

"I did you silly girl."

"Are you a ghost?"

Sherlock scoffed. "No, ghosts don't exist."

"Then what are you and why can't I see you?"

Sherlock thought for a moment. His childhood friend had grown smarter since they last met. "I was sent by your father," He said. "To train you."

"You're an angel then?"

"If you like. Now, I expect you to meet me here at the same time tomorrow. Our lessons will begin then. Sleep well, Molly Hooper."

_Well that was strange _Molly thought. As she crawled into bed she decided she had imagined the whole thing.

Sherlock Holmes had inhabited the cellars of the Royal Opera House for exactly two years. He had done so when the owner of the Opera House, his only friend, John Watson, got married. Sherlock decided to withdraw form society completely, seeing that everyone around him were a bunch of idiots. John, of course, knew that his friend was now living underneath the Opera House.

"_You do realize this is over reacting?" _His friend had said.

"_Not really, you're my only friend. This way I can talk to you whenever I wish, but I don't have to converse with anyone who lowers the IQ of the whole street." _

_John rolled his eyes. "Fine. Just don't damage anything and I don't want anyone else to know you're here." _

So he'd broken his deal with John a little, but the girl had no idea who he was or where he lived. Everything was fine.

* * *

_Five Years Later_

"Unbelievable!" John cried. Rehearsal had just started and the lead, Irene Adler, had yet to arrive. No sooner had John started to complain, then a telegram arrived from Irene saying she was ill and would not be able to perform tonight. "What are we going to do!?" Then John remember what Sherlock had said to him the other night.

"_She's ready John. Molly. Next opera I expect Margret Hooper to be the star." _

"Molly," John turned to the girl. "Do you know the song?"

Everyone was shocked. Was the owner really considering giving the role to a chorus girl?

"Y-yes." Molly stammered.

John motioned for her to come forward. "Doyle if you would." He said to the conductor. He was just as shocked as everyone else, but began nonetheless.

"_Think of me _

_Think of me fondly_

_When we've said goodbye_

_remember me once in awhile_

_promise me you'll try_

_on that day that not so distant day when you are far away and free_

_if you ever find a moment spare a thought for me." _

Rehearsal flew by and before Molly knew it, she was singing onstage in front of an audience.

"_And though it's clear_

_though it was always clear_

_that this was never meant to be_

_if you happen to remember_

_stop and think of me_

_Think of August when the trees were green_

_don't think about the way things might have been_

_Think of me_

_Think of me waking silent and resigned_

_imagine me trying to hard to put you from my mind_

_Think of me_

_please say you'll think of me whatever else you chose to do _

_there will never be a day when I won't think of you!" _

Mycroft Holmes was watching the performance in amazement. He couldn't believe it. After all these years, here was Molly Hooper. The Hooper and the Holmes families had been friends, but after James Hooper's wife died, he had moved himself and his only daughter to Nottingham. Molly had been 11 at the time and she preferred the company of 16-year-old Sherlock to 23-year-old Mycroft.

_She may not remember me, but I remember her. _Mycroft thought with a smile.

"_Flowers fade the fruits of summer fade_

_they have their seasons, so do we _

_But please promise me that sometimes_

_you will… think… of… me!"_

The audience erupted into applause.

When Molly got back to her dressing room, it was overflowing with flowers, but the one that caught her eye was a single red rose.

"Molly dear," Mrs. Hudson's voice interrupted her thoughts. "There is a family to see you."

"Oh?"

"The Holmes' they say you know them."

Molly broke into a huge grin. "Yes I do. Show them in at once."

"I'm not your maid, dear." Mrs. Hudson reminded her, but she opened the door anyway.

"Margret, dear." Henrietta Holmes said with a smile. "You were absolutely wonderful tonight."

"Thank you, Mrs. Holmes, but please call me Molly."

"There's no point, you'll always be little Margret to us." Basil replied warmly.

"Well even if my parent won't, I shall respect your wishes and call you Molly." A third voice said. The girl looked past the couple and saw Mycroft Holmes standing by the door.

"Yes, you remember Mycroft don't you?" Basil said.

"Of course I do!" Molly beamed. "Though I'm surprised you remember me."

"How could I forget you, Molly?"

"Oh my is that the time?" Henrietta cried. "Margret, dear I'm afraid Basil and I must be off. We're promised for dinner, but," She turned to her son. "Don't let that spoil your evening dear." She turned back to Molly. "I expect to see you for tea tomorrow, Miss Hooper."

Mycroft and Molly chuckled when they were gone. "I do apologize for mother."

"No need, she's wonderful."

"These are for you." Mycroft handed her a bouquet of lilies.

"My favorite! You remembered!"

"Of course I do. You complained one year that the deer had eaten all of mother's lilies. You said they were your favorites."

The pair sat in silence for a few moments before Mycroft spoke again.

"Would you care to join me for dinner?"

"I would love to!" Molly's face fell. "But I can't."

"Why on earth not?"

"My tutor. He doesn't want me to be distracted from singing."

"Who is your tutor?"

"I'm not really sure, he's just a voice."

Mycroft had a feeling, Molly wasn't telling him something about this tutor, but he played along. "Molly it sounds as though this tutor of yours is trying to control who you see and don't see. But surely you have been a good student?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

"Then what harm is there in going out to dinner with a childhood friend?"

Molly smiled. "None at all."

"There you see. I don't think your tutor could object to that. I shall be back in 15 minutes."

Mycroft offered her one last smile before leaving. Molly couldn't help, but squeal a little when he was gone. While it was true, she had mostly stuck to Sherlock like glue when they were younger, she had always had a crush on the elder Holmes. Speaking of Sherlock, Molly wondered where he was. Oh well, she'd ask Mycroft at dinner.

She stepped behind the screen and changed into a lovely white gown. She was getting her shawl when the candles all went out.

"Insolent man this slave of fashion. Basking in your glory. Ignorant fool, this brave young suitor. Sharing in my triumph!" Sherlock was furious. How dare his elder brother trick his student like this! Mycroft might have been everyone else's favorite, but Molly had always preferred _him._ And he'd be damned before he saw that change.

"Angel, I hear you. Speak, I listen. Stay by my side. Guide me. Angel, my soul was weak; forgive me. Enter at last, Master." Molly suddenly felt terrible. Her angel had always been there for her and now she was deliberately disobeying his wishes.

"Flattering child, you shall know me. See why in shadow I hide. Look at your face in the mirror. I am there inside."

Molly turned towards the mirror. Sure enough there he was. Her angel was tall. He had curly black hair and beautiful blue eyes. She was absolutely hypnotized. Molly didn't even acknowledge Mycroft knocking on the door. "Molly? Molly are you alright? But Molly heard nothing.

She was about to step through the now open mirror, when her angel extended his hand. She hesitated. She didn't know this man, was it really safe to be alone with him? _But he's your angel he would never hurt you_. Molly reasoned with herself and took his hand.

* * *

**Yay! New story! Now I need your opinions so review!**

**~Kate**


	2. Notes

Molly's eyes fluttered open. It took her a moment to remember what had happened the previous night.

"Took you long enough." A familiar voice said.

Molly sat up and looked at her tutor. "What happened?"

"You have fainted. Now get up, we have to practice."

Sherlock turned on his heels and exited the room. Slowly, Molly sat up. She remembered being led to the cellars, the boat ride across the lake, and then there was the dress. It was a wedding dress. Molly adored her angel, but had she missed something? Was he in love with her? What-

"Is something that matter?" Her angel said impatiently.

"No." She managed.

"Then get up. We haven't got all day."

The singer rose to her feet and followed her teacher to the organ.

"Angel, do you have a name?" She asked. "It's just…you look like someone I once knew."

Sherlock thought for a moment before answering. "The fact is, Molly, I'm the person of whom you speak. I'm Sherlock Holmes."

Molly blinked. "Is it really you?"

The Opera Ghost gave her an odd look, but nodded. Much to his surprise, Molly hugged him. "I thought something happened to!" She broke the embrace. "When I didn't see you with your family, I assumed the worst. I was going to ask your brother, but-"

"Never speak of my brother to me." He snapped.

"Why ever not?"

Sherlock didn't reply.

"I don't understand. Mycroft's a perfect gentleman. He's kind and-"

"I SAID STOP IT!" Sherlock shouted.

Molly jumped. She hadn't expected him to shout.

Sherlock turned around and took a deep breath before turning back to Molly. "Come, we must return. You will be missed."

* * *

"John, has Miss Hooper returned yet?" Mycroft asked. He had just entered the Opera House when he saw the manager.

"She hasn't. I'm worried. I don't know what could have happened."

"Also," Mycroft reached into his pocket and pulled out a note. "I received this." He unfolded it and read it aloud.

"_Fear not for Miss Hooper, her angel has her under his wing. Make no attempt to see her again. _I thought you might have written it."

"No. I don't know where-"

"Really!" A new voice exclaimed. The patron and the manager turned to see a fuming Irene Adler enter the building. "If you didn't want me in the role that's one thing! But to send me _this_!" She held a note up. It was written on the same paper that Mycroft's was.

"What are you talking about?" John asked.

"I'm not talking to you." She turned to Mycroft. "Did you write this?"

"Of course not."

Irene shoved the note at him. "Are you telling me you didn't send this?"

The patron opened the note and read it.

"_Your days at the Royal Opera House are numbered. Margret Hooper will be singing tonight. Be prepared for a great misfortune if you attempt to take her place. _Why on earth would I send this?"

"I saw you after you left her dressing room. You just want your lover to be the star!"

"Miss Hooper is not my-"

"Enough!" John intervened. "Look there are too many notes about Molly for my taste. She is a very talented singer, but I'm not giving her a role like the countess. Irene, if you would remain our lead for the remainder of the season."

"And what of the threat?"

"I promise nothing will happen to you."

"Miss Hooper is back." Mrs. Hudson said. The trio turned to look at her.

"Is she alright?" John asked.

"A little tired it all. Won't say where she was."

"May I see her?" Mycroft questioned.

"No, she won't see anyone. But," She turned back to John. "I have a note."

John took it. He almost rolled his eyes when he saw his friend's handwriting. "_Mr. Watson, you know by now how my theatre is to be run. However you have not followed my instructions. I will give you one last chance. Molly Hooper has returned and I am anxious that her career should progress. In the new production of Il Muto you will therefore cast Irene as the pageboy. And put Miss Hooper in the role of the Countess. This role calls for charm and appeal. The role of the pageboy is silent, which makes my casting ideal. I will watch the performance from Box 5 as usual. Should these commands be ignored a disaster beyond your imagination will occur. Your obedient O.G." _John could punch his friend right in the nose. Really! This was _his _opera house. Not Sherlock's. And he'd be damned before he saw that change.

"It's just a plot to help the Hooper girl!" Irene yelled.

"That's it!" John exclaimed. "I'm sick of this Opera Ghost ordering me around. This is my opera house and I can cast whomever I choose and if I want to sell box five I'll sell box five. It's about time he learned that! Irene, you will be playing the countess and Molly will play the pageboy. Do your worst Opera Ghost!"

"Am I interrupting something?" A new voice asked. Everyone turned to the door.

"Damn it, Jim-sorry. I completely forgot about our meeting."

"I can come back if now's a bad time."

"No it's fine. Just some Opera Ghost business."

"I thought that was just a legend."

"So did I, but take a look at this." John handed the note to the patron.

"A disaster beyond your imagination?" Jim said when he'd finished reading it. "What does that mean?"

"No idea. Look it doesn't matter. Let's just go talk business."

"Of course."

As he followed the manager down the hall, the gears in Jim's mind were turning.


End file.
